


Out Like A Light

by eromist92



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 14:23:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eromist92/pseuds/eromist92
Summary: In this tale, things take a turn for the worst. And it all starts with a present.





	1. Prologue

Living used to be so easy.

Finding enjoyment in life wasn't hard to come by and freedom was easily granted.

There were no walls, no restrictions and your house was a safe place.

Your neighbours were easy going and kind.

People in the town were helpful and everyone knew who you were.

Not all of living was easy but for the most part, everyone enjoyed it.

The sun would rise in the morning and would go down at night.

But soon, the sky was left a permanent grey.

And then people weren't so happy...they didn't want to be alive but fought hard to.

Death was scary but being alive was worse.

People were harder to trust.

Your house wasn't safe.

They had control of everything.


	2. Chapter 2

 It was a random thunder storm. Loud bangs, harsh rain and flashes of light erupted from above. The weather had taken a turn for the worst, when just yesterday it was warm and sunny. It was typical though, especially for Scotland but even this was a bit bizarre. And the loud noises coming from outside had woken most of the town up...in their sleepy state they began to write updates about the storm on their social media accounts. Who needed the telly, when you had the internet?

"Did anyone see this coming?"

"No". Came the sleepy response from the other bed, "this is annoying...so loud".

"I know". The young man agreed with a sigh, "needed to get up early as well".

"Work tomorrow?"

"Yeah". John huffed, "Chelsea wants me do to an extra shift".

"Sucks to be you".

"Shut up, Sutcliffe...all's you do is paint".

"It sells". Stuart told him, defensively. "Like...loads".

"Sixty ain't a lot in today's world, lad". John mumbled, looking towards the window and watching as another flash brightened up the room. "I wonder where-"

"John?"

"There he is". John sighed and sat up, "alright, George?"

"Fine". The youngest shrugged, digging his toe into the carpet. "Just...Paul's not here".

"Right...".

"And well-" the boy stammered, slowly walking into the room.

"Just sleep here, Geo". Stuart told him, not in any sort of mood for unanswered questions. "You're scared, we get it".

"Never said that". The boy mumbled, sitting on the edge of Stuart's bed.

"Your face says it all". John pointed out with a smirk, "to be fair...it is pretty close".

"You reckon?" Stuart asked, passing George a pillow. "Looks further away, mate".

John reached over and pulled back his curtains, "looks like-"

Just then, a strike of lightening hit something, which caused the street lights to go out and the bulb in their hall to go out.

"It just hit the electricity".

"You're joking?" Stuart groaned, "fucking hell...".

John watched with wide eyes when the electricity stand set on fire. He began to tremble with excitement and amazement as he watched the wires go up in flames, letting out pale blue sparks.

"John-"

"fire...it’s on fire".

Soon, the other two joined him at the window and watched with the same excited though with a small amount of terror, wide and curious eyes. And seconds later came a loud siren, the fire trucks were on their way towards the field.

"Is there sheep in that field?" George wondered out loud, suddenly thinking of the poor animals, who were bound to be terrified. "And is Salem in?"

"She should be". Stuart assured him, "she hates going out in the rain, Geo".

"Wonder how long that'll take to put out". John mumbled, as he watched flashing lights mixed with lightening fill the scene in front of him.

"It looks like two wizards having a fight...with all them lights". Stuart voiced quietly, causing John to snort in amusement.

"You been taking acid, mate?"

"Fuck off, John".

For the next hour, they made quiet comments as they watched the fire slowly die out. The storm had stopped somewhere in that time but George was still too anxious about sleeping alone tonight, so he decided to spend the night by Stuarts feet.

"Topping and tailing". John commented, as he closed the curtains and got back into bed. "Been a while since I've seen that, lads".

"As if you would sleep alone". George remarked, with his eyes closed.

"Right...see you chaps in a few hours".

***

A bright light shone through George's closed eyes the next morning. He let out a small noise of annoyance and lifted the duvet up, so it was covering his face.

"Lights are back". Stuart commented, flicking the light switch on and off.

"We get it, Stu". John murmured, "could you stop being an annoying little shit for one minute though, please? I'm already pissed that I've got work".

Letting out a quiet chuckle, Stuart ended up turning the small lamp on instead. "Doubt you'll be going to work today, John".

"What do you mean?"

Crossing his arms, Stuart gestured towards the window. "Take a look outside".

Pulling the duvet off from his body, John sat up and opened the curtains. At first, he felt annoyed that perhaps Stuart had woken him up before the sun but when he looked at his phone, he saw that it was seven in the morning. "It’s like winter". He whispered, "why is the sky so grey looking?"

"Maybe its fog?" Stuart shrugged, sitting on his bed. "Whatever it is...they've closed the bridge so you can't get to work".

"How did you find out so fast?" He asked, sounding confused.

"Facebook".

"Fucking hell...alright". He sighed, running a hand down his face. "I'll phone up Chelsea then and let her know-"

"she already called". Stuart told him, "your off work until they fix the bridge".

"Well-" John smirked, "didn't know I had such a tidy personal assistant, love".

"Lay off". Stuart rolled his eyes before looking down at George, who had fallen back asleep again. He smiled and prodded the boys shoulder, "you still have college though, mate".

"No-" he groaned, "it’s too dark...you heard, John...bridge is shut". He finished, sighing sleepily as he closed his eyes again.

"You don't go over the bridge you numpty...come on, you'll miss the train". Stuart grabbed onto the duvet and pulled it back, laughing when George let out a yelp.

"Stuart, no-"

"yes...". He sang, "don't you want to pass English?"

"Of course, I do". He told him, in an obvious voice.

"Well get up!"

"Fine!" George snapped, getting out of the bed and storming out of the room and into the bathroom, ignoring his friend’s laughter.

"Seriously though...what the hell am I supposed to do now?" John asked, chewing on his bottom lip with worry. "How am I 'gonna make money?"

Stuart shrugged and laid back down on his bed, stretching his legs out. "Could always just sell my paintings".

"Like that'll pay the rent". He grumbled, "I'll see if Colin needs a hand with the gardening again".

"Good idea". He mused, closing his eyes. "Could go back to sleep, me".

"Are we expecting a delivery?" Called George's voice from the bathroom.

"What?" John asked, eyebrows pulling together. "What are you-"

"delivery vans outside...a man's coming to the door".

He looked at Stuart, who shrugged. "Suppose I should get it". John sighed heavily and got out of bed, beginning to quicken his pace when the doorbell rang. He turned on the hall light and opened the door, feeling a chill run through his body from the cool air outside. "Yes?"

"We have a delivery". The depot man stated, a large cardboard box in front of him.

"No kidding". John mumbled, "we haven't ordered anything though".

"I have instructions to install this new plasma HD telly into your home...it’s a curtsey gift".

"What? From who?!"

"HR?" The man shrugged, "I just deliver, mate".

"And install". John said under his breath, "I suppose you better come in then...".

Nodding, the man looked behind him. "James! Give me a hand, would you".

"For fu-"

"sorry, mate". He said sheepishly, "need two pairs of hands for this, like".

"Whatever". John opened the door wider, letting the two depot men inside his flat, "just make it quick...got a lot going on today".

"So have we". James defended, "we've got to install these telly's in everyone's houses".

"What's happening?" Stuart asked, as he and George walked into the living room. "Why do we have that telly?"

"Curtsey gift-"

"curtsey gift?"

John grinned and leaned against the wall, shaking his head. "Someone really loves us". 


	3. Chapter 3

Sitting perfectly on a stand, was their new 40-inch, flat screen, plasma telly. But according to the depot men, it wasn't just your ordinary television...it had the internet, all the channels you could think of and even a camera so you could skype with people. The boys loved it, though they would never admit to loving such a high tech, snobbish piece of equipment.

"What's that red light mean?" George asked, pointing to the red light on the top of the telly.

"It’s on standby". Stuart answered, "should we...turn it on?"

John picked up the remote, staring down at all the buttons. Nothing looked complicated but something about receiving a telly as a gift, felt off. "Not yet, we'll do it later, okay?"

All was quiet, as the boys continued to stare at the telly in front of them. But it was soon broken when George received a text alert on his phone. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled the device out and unlocked the screen. "Paul can't get home".

"Shit". John hissed, "the bridge".

"He'll try again tomorrow".

"Nothing we can do". Stuart sighed dejectedly, "you should get to college anyway, mate. You'll miss the train".

"Right...". He replied, a slight whining to his voice as he walked out of the living room and into the hall to get ready.

"We really not 'gonna turn this on, John?"

"No sure". He mumbled, turning to face his friend. "Just seems weird...".

"What? Cause its free?" Stuart questioned, "it’s a gift mate, what could go wrong?"

John shrugged, "not sure...maybe I'm just being paranoid".

"Probably". Stuart teased, "wouldn't be the first time".

"But I was right, was I not? That bird was out to hurt you". He pointed out knowingly, "she cheated on you, mate. And I told you from the start, she was-"

"bad news...". He whispered, "I get it...you have good instincts".

"Too right, I do". John said smugly, "so just...trust me on this the now, yeah?"

"Whatever you say, mate".

***

George quickly ran towards the train and began to frantically press the button to open the door. He stared with panic eyes, waiting for the green light to come on and sighed in relief when it did and he boarded the train. His friends would have killed him if he missed this train, meaning he would be late for college, for the second time this week. It wasn't his fault though...he just found it hard to switch off at night, leaving him to sleep in and rush around the next morning.

"George!" His friend, Craig, waved him over. "Saved you a seat".

Smiling thankfully, he moved passed the small crowd of people near the door and ignored their annoyed faces as he walked down the tight corridor, towards his friend. "Cheers". He let out a long breath and sat down, wiping the sweat off from his forehead as he finally let himself relax.

"Alright?" Craig laughed, "did you run here?"

"What do you think?" George put his bag down below his feet and brought out his phone, cursing under his breath when he saw how much battery he had left. "Twenty percent...should've charged it last night-"

"but a freak storm happened and you couldn't". His friend’s eyes lit up with excitement, "wasn't it wonderful...".

"What you call wonderful...I call dam right freaky, Craig".

"Where's your sense of adventure, Georgie?!"

"I must have left it at nursery". George dully stated, "I don't have one...not much, anyway".

"Well...I do. I've been watching Bear Grylls all morning. What a fascinating man". Craig mused, leaning back on his seat. "He really has been everywhere...you know".

"Did you watch it on the new telly?" George guessed, "we received one this morning but John didn't put it on".

"That's rude".

"Not really". George disagreed, "he's just being careful".

"Careful doesn't get you anywhere in life, George Harrison".

"Maybe so". He uttered quietly, "but it keeps you alive".

Craig turned to face his friend and grinned, "how very deep of you".

"Don't be soft". George mumbled, embarrassed, as he shoved his friends shoulder. He then turned to the doors when the train stopped and watched as even more people walked on, "how busy is this train to Dundee this morning?"

"Festivals on today".

"Seriously?" George groaned, "this trains going to be packed".

"Lighten up". Craig brightly said, "things could be far worse than being on a busy train for forty minutes".

"Is there a reason why we're friends?"

He laughed, "you're always so sweet to me".

George joined in but soon stopped when an elderly couple approached them. They didn't even have to ask, the boy got up and pulled Craig with him. "Take our seats, its fine". He assured the couple sweetly, dragging Craig out so the couple could sit down.

"Bless you, my dear". The woman called, as the boys walked towards the door.

"It’s not so cramped here, actually". Craig pointed out, there were only a few others hovering by the door. "Could always sit down".

"No chance". George huffed out a laugh, "do you know how much bacteria people carry on their shoes? Loads". He lectured, "no chance am I sitting down".

"Well-" Craig began to lower himself onto the floor, "my legs are tired".

"Jogging?"

"Swimming...you should-"

"hang on". George interrupted him, pulling out his phone. "I'm buzzing...hey, Stuart".

"George...stay calm alright? But I need you to get off the train, before it reaches the Tay bridge".

"What? Why?"

"It’s...it’s going to fall off".

***

Stuart was sitting in the living room, minding his own business by reading a book. The house was quiet, John had run over to the corner shop for some bread and milk, leaving Stuart alone in the house. But the silence didn't last for long because out of nowhere, came a loud ringing. The book fell out of his hands and Stuart got up from the couch, startled as he tried to find the source. He was unlucky though because after four more rings, the noise turned off and he was left in silence again.

"What was that...". He whispered out loud, looking around for a phone or perhaps a laptop...anything electrical that could have made the noise. And that's when his eyes landed on the telly. The red light had stopped flashing and he saw that it then turned green. "What the-"

"train leaving from Dunfermline to Dundee. This is an announcement".

Stuart tilted his head in confusion, when the female voice suddenly spoke out from the telly. He walked towards the flat screen and placed his hand over the light.

"This announcement is for friends and family members, of the people on the train".

His head soon snapped up, "George". He whispered fearfully...feeling too much dread to acknowledge that the voice spoke again.

"If you want to see them again-"

"shit-" Stuart located his phone and began to search for George's number.

"Then they must leave the train before they reach the Tay bridge-"

"pick up...pick up-"

"or all will end in disaster. For the train will come off the tracks and fall into the Firth of Tay".

"George...stay calm, alright? But I need you to get off the train, before it reaches the Tay bridge".

"What? Why?"

Stuart turned around and faced John when he walked in, face pale and hands trembling. "It’s...it’s going to fall off". 


	4. Chapter 4

  "Stuart?" He called, when the line began to break up. "I can't...we're going under a tunnel. I can't hear you but...I can't get off". George then placed a hand on Craig's shoulder, gently beginning to pull his friend up. "I don't know when the next stop before the Tay is-"

"Cuper". Craig whispered, "we can get off there".

"Cuper". George repeated, "we'll get off...even if this is some kind of sick-"

"it’s not a joke!" Stuart's voice came back, more terrified than ever. "Get off this train...John and I will make our way to Cuper now. Don't get back on any public transport".

"Well?"

George put his phone back into his pocket, "we need to get off-"

"did I hear that right?" A young girl asked from beside them, "is the train going to fall?"

"I'm not sure". He admitted, chewing his bottom lip. "But I don't think Stu would make this up".

"We need to get everyone off, George". Craig told him lowly, "even if it is just a joke...better to be safe than sorry, right?"

Nodding once, George and Craig made their way back towards the seating area. The teenager then cleared his throat, standing in front of at least sixty or more people. He felt a little nervous, his cheeks even reddened but he couldn't risk anyone dying. "Excuse me...can I have your attention please?"

Heads began to face him, eyes staring into his. Even some of the small children turned their heads, making small babbles of amusement. "Be quiet, Isabel". A mother lightly scolded her toddler. George felt his heart squeeze...he wasn't aware of the children until now.

"My friends convinced this trains going to fall off the bridge-"

"what?"

"Why would you say that-"

"boys on drugs!"

"I'm not!" George called out loudly, amongst the protests. "And neither is he...he sounded terrified, which isn't like him...and it leads me to believe it’s true".

"So, we should all get off at Cuper". Craig pointed out loudly.

"Which is in-"

"two minutes".

"What?" George whispered, facing his friend. "We need to get everyone off".

"And convince them". The young girl added, "I'll talk to the driver...see if he knows anything, okay?"

"Eh...thanks".

"No problem".

George watched the young girl walk away from the seating area and towards another door, where the driver was. He only hoped she had better luck than him. "Craig...what do we-"

"how does it happen?" A man from the back asked, looking sceptical about the whole thing. "We're going to fall...so how does it happen?"

"People control the tracks". Craig said, "whoever is in control of this train will most likely send us flying over the-"

"enough". George hissed, when he saw the scared faces of the small children.

"Sorry...we need to get off at Cuper, though". He continued to tell everyone, "please...believe us".

All was still for a moment and George thought that no one would get off but a few seconds later, almost everyone left their seats and came charging towards the door, in a blind panic. "Shit-" George cursed loudly, when he was pushed to the ground. He felt the wind get knocked out of him as shoes met his back.

"Calm down!"

He could hear Craig yell, as he scooted into the corner, lodging himself between the seats for safety.

"No use in panicking! We'll all get off safely, okay?" He tried to reason with the crowd but ended up falling to the floor himself. "George?!"

"Over here...". He croaked, panting heavily on his hands and knees. "Sorry-"

"stop it". Craig cut in firmly, sitting next to his friend. "Are you okay?"

"Not really". He admitted weakly, "must be crawling with bacteria now".

Letting out a nervous chuckle, Craig ran a hand through his messy hair. "We'll get off".

"I know...wonder where that girl is?"

"Probably still trying to get in to the drivers bit".

"Can't she just press a button?" George asked, sitting up on his knees now.

"No. Its key card protected". Craig told him, "don't ask how I know".

"I won't". He smirked, "you know everything...after all".

"Not everything". Craig told him softly, "I would be at university if I knew everything, George".

"Please-" he snorted, "you've been at the top of the class since primary school. I was there, I know".

"Yes". Craig agreed, "but...then we became friends and you dumbed me down".

George laughed and punched his friends arm, "bastard!"

"Train now approaching...Cuper". A robotic voice told them all.

"Press the button!" A woman screamed, who was holding her baby tightly.

"I am!" The man yelled, annoyed, as his fat hands continued to punch the button.

"In time...it will go green". Craig called, "then you can press the-"

"it’s green!" Someone yelled, when the train stopped. "Let’s get off, come on!"

Craig grabbed onto George's shoulder and pulled them both up. He then stood behind the other passengers, watching with worry as most of them ended up falling onto the track in their state of panic. "Jesus-"

"let’s just go". George voiced weakly, leaning heavily against his friend.

"Fuck!" Craig shouted, when the doors started to close. "Go!"

"No way-"

"go!" Craig urged, pushing his friend out of the train.

George collided onto the platform outside, landing onto his hands. He groaned and coughed, as he quickly got up and faced the doors. He stared back at Craig and began to hit the button, "Craig!" He yelled, voice cracking, "Craig!" Behind Craig he could see a few others, including the young girl from before. George's legs began to wobble, "stop the train!" He yelled, "stop...my friend...my friends on...stop the...". He soon fell to his knees when the train began to move slowly away from him. George breathed heavily, letting out quiet groans of despair and grief. His only hope now was that this wasn't going to happen...and Craig would be okay.

***

"There he is...come on!"

Both Stuart and John ran towards their friend, who was sitting alone on the pavement. His hands clutched together, arms wrapped around his knees as his shoulders shook. George never noticed his friend running towards him because not only was the fog still thick but his eyes were clouded over by the image of one of his oldest friends leaving on the train.

"You got off, you-"

"Craig didn't". George whispered hoarsely, "he still...".

John crouched down in front of him, "come on mate...you shouldn't be out here".

"I lost him".

"I know". He whispered, "but we have to go, Geo".

George pressed the palms of his hands deep into his eyes, trying hard to suppress the grief that threatened to possess him.

"John-" Stuart warned, "we should give him a minute to-"

"right". Very carefully, George got back onto his feet. "Who told you?" He asked, glittering eyes now burning into Stuart's.

"The...the telly".

"The telly-" he laughed, "that's funny...just peachy-"

"seriously". He went on, "that light? It turned green and a voice came on...telling me about the train".

"Okay...and what about everyone else?" George asked, gesturing around him. "Wouldn't they get a text?"

"The signal". John pointed out softly, "it was bad...was it not?"

"You better not be fucking kidding me on, Stuart, or I swear to God-"

"it’s real". John whispered, swallowing hard as he turned his phone screen towards the youngest. 

 _"R.I.P to those lives lost on the train accident today going to Dundee"._  


	5. Chapter 5

 "He's asleep". John told his friend, walking back into the living room.

"Good...that's good".

"What are you doing?"

"This light-" Stuart pointed out, "every time I put my hand over it, it makes a noise...see". He demonstrated this by placing his hand over the green light...only then to hear a quiet but loud enough for the whole room to hear, beeping noise. "See?"

"The plugs out". John noticed, sounding confused. "How the-"

"its wireless". Stuart told him, "it runs off the main electricity source".

"Which is?"

"Probably what that storm tried to destroy". Stuart sighed and took a few steps back, now looking at the screen on the telly. "We should turn it on".

"It talked to you, Stu". John shook his head, "we're not putting it on".

"Bit weird though, right?" He said, "first the storm...then the fog...and now the telly is warning us?".

John snorted, "I wouldn't say its warning us, mate".

"Then what else?"

He shrugged, eyeing the green light with a glare. "It’s informing us...but I don't think it’s the telly". John mumbled, making his way towards the cardboard box it came in. He reached inside and pulled out an information leaflet. "This HD television is owned by, HCO. Please look inside for further instructions". He read out loud.

"HCO?" Stuart wondered, peering over John's shoulder to see the leaflet. "Who's that?"

"No idea". He admitted, scratching the top of his head.

"Craig would've known". A quiet voice said from behind them, "he always knew".

"George". Stuart frowned, "thought you were asleep?"

"I was-" he said, "but now I'm not...what are you's doing?"

John dropped the leaflet back into the box with a sigh, "nothing, mate...are you okay?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because-" he cleared his throat, "you just lost a friend".

"And why would you care-"

"hey!" Stuart gaped, "of course we do".

"Sorry". George mumbled, lowering his head. "It’s just-"

"I know". John gently said, "you want something to eat?"

"Not really". He made his over to the couch and sat down, "my minds racing...we need to figure this out".

"Take a step back, mate". Stuart advised him softly, "just...let your head catch up with today-"

"no!" George snapped loudly, "I'm not-" he then lowered his voice to a whisper, "I'm not doing that".

Sitting down next to him, John placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. "We don't have to talk about this right now, okay? But you come to us when you're ready".

Blinking hard, George nodded. "Yeah-" he cleared the lump in his throat, "thank you, I will".

"We should-" John started but soon stopped when his phone rang. "It’s Paul...he'll be worried". He told the others, before he answered his phone. "Macca-"

"George". Paul choked, "is he-"

"he's fine". John assured his panicked friend, "Stuart phoned him after the telly informed us".

"Thank God". He sounded close to fainting but managed to compose himself, "telly? How did-"

"we're guessing everyone's in town did it, Macca". John stated, not sounding very confident but it was only his first theory. "Could be wrong but I don't think it would only target us".

"Might have been across Fife". Stuart mumbled, placing a finger on his chin. "It sounds like they're trying to close off another bridge-"

"or prevent us from leaving". John put in, "could they do that?"

"Do what?" Asked Paul, "what's going on?" He was starting to sound impatient, the others could imagine him pacing the room. "I need to get home-"

"no!" George yelled, grabbing John's hand and pulling the phone close to his mouth, "you're safer where you are, Paul".

"George-" he stated sternly, "I'm not about to leave my best friends, to those-"

but then the line went dead.

"Hello?" John called, staring back at the phone in confusion. "My batteries full...how did-"

"all electrical appliances will be turned off in five minutes time". The female voice from the television said. John and George snapped their heads towards the screen, whilst Stuart looked towards the green light, which was flickering.

"Wireless". He whispered, "they're controlling signals as well".

"What?" John whispered back, "how could-"

"how else would your phone cut off?" Stuart said.

"Now what?" George asked quietly, hands beginning to shake with fear. "Can't we unplug the telly?"

"No, mate". John told him, "its wireless".

"Bloody hell-"

"two minutes left". Said the voice.

"Did anyone see the time?" Stuart wondered, "it can't be ten o'clock yet".

"It’s not-" John sighed, "its only nine thirty".

"Sixty...fifty-nine...fifty-eight...fifty-seven-"

"this is pretty scary". George admitted, inching closer to John.

"Its fine, Geo". John tried to assure him but even he was anxious. "The electricity’s going off, that's all".

"But what if-"

"thirty-nine...thirty-eight...thirty-seven...".

Stuart backed away from the telly and sat down next to his friends, staring at the blank screen with anticipation. It was a strange sort of feeling. He didn't feel as though they were about to die, none of this felt life threatening but he did feel threatened about something. He looked at his youngest friend and noticed with sympathy that he was huddled next to John. Stuart began to run his fingers through George's hair, hoping that would offer him some assurance and comfort.

"Craig pushed me off the train". George suddenly croaked.

"What?" He whispered, the motion in his fingers stopping and resting on the boy’s hair. "What do you-"

"he...he pushed me and saved my life". The boy whispered, as a tear slid down his face. "He died because of me".

"Ten...nine...eight...seven-"

"don't blame yourself". John pulled the boy into his chest, "it’s not your fault".

"Two...one-"

"it feels like it". Came his watery reply, as his shoulders began to shake.

"Zero".

And then, they were sitting in darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

 At six o'clock the next morning, came a loud siren.

All the lights in the house came on, including the street lamps and the rest of the neighbour’s houses.

The three friends woke up startled and felt their eyes burn with the sudden brightness. It was too early for a Saturday and they wanted nothing more than to ignore the siren and go back to sleep.

"The electricity will now be switched on". The voice told them, so it was loud enough to hear up the stairs.

"What?" Stuart mumbled, almost kicking George in the face.

John sat up and opened the curtains, "it’s still foggy".

"How is that possible?"

"No idea". He sighed, swinging his legs around so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "I suppose we should get up then?"

"Because a voice told us too?" George dismissed, "the day I follow orders from the telly, is the day you'll find me buried ten feet under".

"You almost were". Stuart reminded him quietly, "just yesterday...".

"And that's-" he then croaked, before he pulled the duvet off from his body and got up. "I'm going to the loo".

John turned to glare at his friend, who was now looking guilty. "That was nice". He told him sarcastically, when he heard the bathroom door shut. "Want to add anything else to that, Stu?"

"Alright I get it...I was a prick". He said, running a hand down his face. "I'm just stressed, John. This is all really fucked up".

"No shit". He agreed in a low voice, "you'll have to apologize".

"He's impossible for that". Stuart weakly argued, "he'll tell me it’s no big deal".

"Who cares...do it". John harshly insisted, whilst getting out of bed.

"Right now?"

"Obviously not". He commented, rolling his eyes. "Lads in the toilet...who knows what he's doing in there". John pulled open the chest of drawers and brought out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, before he carelessly threw them on his bed.

"I can't think about this right now-" Stuart mumbled, as he picked up his laptop from the floor and placed it on his lap. "I'm zoning out for a while". He plugged his earphones in and grabbed the sketchbook by his bed.

John shook his head and didn't reply, his friend wouldn't hear him now, not with his music blaring into his ears. "You'll regret your laid-back attitude one day, son". He whispered to himself, as he quickly got changed and headed out of the room. "George?" John called, passing the bathroom.

"What?"

"Alright in there?"

"Fine". He replied shortly, "just...brushing my teeth".

He hesitated by the door, knowing his friend was lying but didn't want to push him. "Alright, mate. I'll leave you too it". He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, only to discover they were out of milk...once again. "I bought more yesterday". He whispered, feeling slightly confused as he slowly shut the fridge door. "George?" John called, making his way into the hall to get his shoes.

"Yeah?"

"I'm heading to the shops...you needing anything?"

George opened the bathroom door, "no". He replied, stepping outside.

"Right". He smiled when he noticed the boy, "won't be long... Stu’s in the room, listening to music".

"Right". The boy rolled his eyes, "so...we won't hear from him for a while?"

"Possibly". John opened the front door and stepped out onto the foggy street, "this is haunting".

"Good luck".

When the door closed, George walked into the living room and stood in front of the telly. He stared at the blinking green light, feeling a sense of dread run down his spine as the light flickered. He felt a little silly at the same time...they feared this device. The television. What they used to gather round with family and friends, to watch their favourite shows. And now they feared it? Stepping towards the screen, he placed his hand over the green light, only to then let out a startled yelp when a beeping sound went off.

"Christ!" He yelled, covering his hands over his ears. "Okay...not doing that again-" George let out a sigh of relief when the sound stopped, "bloody hell".

"One minute". The voice said.

"What?" George gasped, hands slowly sliding down his face. "What does that mean-"

"One minute to save your friend".

His heart stopped beating and his blood ran cold. George looked at the clock and back towards the telly, "I don't understand". He trembled, "what does that mean?"

"I can see the fear". The female voice went on lowly. "I can taste it...".

"For fuck-"

"forty-nine...forty-eight...forty-seven-"

"Stuart". George took off into a sprint. He flung the door open, standing by the bed, panting. His friend hadn't even noticed he had entered the room, still too engrossed in his drawings and listening to music.

"Twenty-nine...twenty-eight...twenty-seven-"

"Stuart!" He yelled, reaching towards the man and yanking the headphones out of his ears.

"What the hell, George?" Stuart exclaimed, face a picture of confusion and concern.

"Ten...nine...eight...seven-"

"what is going to kill-" then, he took a chance. Quickly grabbing the only electrical piece of equipment in his friend’s hands, he snatched it off from him, opened the window and chucked it outside.

"George!" He gasped, anger and astonishment in his voice as he raced towards the window and leaned outside. "Why the fuck did you do that?!"

The boy breathed heavily and placed his hands-on Stuart's shoulders, "let me explain-"

"congratulations". Said the voice, "he lives another day".

Stuart slowly turned down to face his friend and tilted his head, "what?" He hushed out, "what the hell was all that about, George?"

George felt his knees bash together, he leaned on his friend for support. "I have no idea...but it wanted to kill you".

"Me?" His eyes widened, "why?"

"Got me". George shrugged, slapping Stuart on the back. "You get to live another day, though".

Stuart pinched his eyes with the tips of his fingers and let out a shaky laugh, "the telly wants to kill us for some reason".

"I'm not sure that's its intentions". George mumbled.

"What else could it be?"

"I have no idea-"

"why is Stu's laptop on the road?" John called, "its smashed to bits!"

"That was me-"

"was George".

They both answered, "I had too". George went on, "it was either that or...". He swallowed and turned to face the man he had just saved, "or him".

"What?" John whispered, face growing pale when he entered the bedroom.

"I'm alive". Stuart assured him, "see?" He did a small turn.

"It’s not funny". George snapped in anger, "you could have died, Stuart!"

Stuart turned to face his friend, now looking serious. "I know". He agreed softly, "and you could have as well...yesterday".

The boy visibly flinched, backing away from Stuart's hands. "Shut up-"

"George...this is serious". He went on, reaching for his friend again. "Thank you for saving my life". He said, with so much gratitude in his voice that it almost brought tears to his eyes. "I get to live another day because of you".

George bit down on his quivering lip and stared into his friend’s eyes, trying hard not to break or show any sign of weakness in front of him. "Thank you for-" his voice cracked, he lowered his head to the floor, trying to gain composure.

"Hey-"

"no". George interrupted firmly, "I'm fine".

Stuart squeezed the boys shoulder before he pulled him into a hug. "You don't have to say it, I already know".  


	7. Chapter 7

 For three days, the lights went off at nine thirty-seven and back on at seven minutes passed six the next morning. The fog from outside had not shifted and the boys were beginning to wonder if it was even the weather at all...perhaps it was smoke or a toxic fume. From being an artist, Stuart's theories were always very creative. He had come up with the idea that aliens were in fact controlling the region of Fife and had targeted this part of the world specifically because of their intelligence. Stuart came up with a new theory almost every morning and each one became more and more unrealistic. On this third day however, he had run out of theories, which disappointed the other two, they liked hearing his thoughts.

"Nothing?" John repeated, five minutes after the lights came on that morning. "Nothing at all?"

"Sorry, no".

"That's disappointing".

"This whole situation is disappointing". George grumbled from Stuart's feet. He didn't feel comfortable sleeping away from his friends, not when there was a telly trying to kill them. "Is the telly trying to kill us?"

"Thought you didn't believe that?" Stuart pointed out, "that was my first theory".

"I don't". He sighed, "but the telly has to contribute in all of this somehow".

"Do you think-"

"in ten minutes. A car will collect you for work. You have ten minutes". The same female voice told them.

"Work?" John whispered, raising an eyebrow. "We have to work now?"

"I suppose we do". Stuart was the first to leave the bed, "we should get ready...or else-"

"we get it". George butted in, "let’s get ready".

They took their time getting ready, just to piss this whole situation off. But soon regretted that when the voice informed them of the cars pulling up outside their house.

"Leave now, or suffer. Leave now, or suffer...". It repeated.

"Fuck sake-" John hissed, pulling on his shoes. "We get it!"

"John". Stuart nudged his friends arm, "don't aggravate it...you'll make it worse".

"Who's going first?" George asked, ignoring his friend’s pleas and annoyance.

Clearing his throat, John stepped towards the door and turned the door knob. "I will". And with that, he pulled the door open and stepped out into the foggy cool air. Black cars were lined up in front of each house, with their headlights on full beam. He couldn't see anyone else getting into the cars but could hear doors slamming shut and quiet chatter.

"Ready for this?" Stuart sounded scared, as he crept up beside him. "Cause I'm not".

John looked at his friend with a frown, about to assure him but got cut off when the passenger side door of the car opened.

"Gentlemen". A woman's voice said, "please...come in".

"W-who are you?" George braved, though his voice trembled.

"That doesn't matter". The woman replied smoothly, "now please, come into the car".

They couldn't make out her face from the heavy fog but slowly, the three friends approached the mysterious woman beside the car. Neither of them looked at her as they bent down and slid into the back seat, making sure to leave enough room for one another.

"Thank you for your cooperation". She praised gently, shutting the door. "This journey shouldn't take long but be sure to buckle up". Doing as they were told, the boys buckled up their seatbelts just as the car began to move down the street, behind the other vehicles in front. "Perfect". She said, sounding as though she was grinning. "Well behaved...I do like that". The light in the car was soon turned on and the boys could make out red, short and ageing hair. A scribbling noise was soon heard and then the sound of a book closing, "now boys...when we get there, you will be giving a choice". She explained, "and I hope you pick the right one for you...everyone is good at different things".

George gripped onto his jeans, his hands making a fist. He stared at the back of this woman, something was off about her, that much was obvious but he didn't get the feeling that she was going to kill them...not just yet, anyway.

"Don't worry your little heads about that right now". She giggled softly, now turning to face them, her blue eyes digging into Stuart's the most. "It'll only cause you grief".

"I'm 'gonna be sick". Stuart choked out, covering a hand over his mouth and swallowing hard.

"That is a shame". The woman mocked, grinning at him. "You best stop the car driver...though this will cut your time, my dear boy".

"Stu-" John whispered shakily, "hold it together".

"Yes". She hushed, "you can't be having all that nonsense now, can you?"

He coughed and swallowed once more before shaking his head, "no". He whispered hoarsely, managing to control his stomach. "I'm fine".

"What a journey!" She exclaimed, excitement gleaming in her eyes. "You're fun, aren't you!"

"N-no-"

"no?" She gaped, "you almost vomited in my car...very interesting. I thought you were stronger than this, Stuart".

"I-I-I-"

"I...I...I... -" she faked concern and let out a giggle, "get us there quickly...the other one might wet himself and boy, that would be a shame".

***

The car stopped and they got out, only to be facing a school. Flood lights were pointing towards the entrance, exit and grounds...making it look more like a prison than a workplace. They could see other people entering the building, each looking as terrified as the next. And the one thing that stood out the most for them was...the women. They looked lost...sad...worried and that's when it hit them. They couldn't see any children.

"The kids". John whispered, voice full of pent up emotions. "Where are the-"

"they can't work". She told him, closing the door. "Now hop to it...we have a lot to cover this morning! Luckily we have all day though".

"All day?"

"Yes...". She answered slowly, "you work here...from six thirty until six at night".

"Do we get paid?" Stuart asked, feeling a small part of his confidence come back but it was quickly shattered when the woman laughed.

"In a way...I guess you do".

"What does that mean?" George asked quietly, "and do the kids work somewhere else?"

"Too many questions". She tutted, "you're wasting your own time, not mine. I could answer them for you all day...or you could make yourself useful and work!"

"Of course, we will". John reassured, "we'll work...right, lads?"

George quickly nodded, "of course-"

"we'll be happy too".

The woman took out a key and unlocked the tall black gate, "right this way, boys". She smiled and opened the gate, "you choose what to do here, remember".

That didn't offer them any comfort at all.


	8. Chapter 8

 "Pick one...you can either go through that door-" she pointed to the door to her right, "or the one behind you".

The corridor they were standing in was dimly lit. The walls were a blood red and the flooring was a plastic white. It reminded them of a hospital, it even smelt of bleach and disinfectant. The doors she was pointing towards were wooden, thick with no source of light seeping from the bottom. It was daunting to look at...let alone pick a room.

"What are behind the doors?" Stuart quietly asked, staring intently at the door to the woman's right. He wouldn't go for the one behind them...he couldn't see if that door was the same.

"Seven minutes".

"Excuse me...".

"You've wasted seven minutes". She told them, "just...pick a door".

Stuart briefly looked at John, who was staring down towards the floor. "Right...that one then". He said, not sounding confident at all, as he pointed to the door behind him.

"Perfect". A wide grin spread across her face, as she brought out a key. "Follow me, my dear".

"Stu-" John grabbed his friends arm. He looked up at him, and nodded firmly. "I'll see you at six, okay?"

"Of course, John".

George let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and leaned heavily against the wall to stop himself from falling, when the woman and Stuart entered the room. His hands began to shake as they were placed by his sides and his heart was almost breaking through his chest. "Why are we here? I don't want to be here". He croaked, as moisture filled his eyes.

"None of that now". John placed a hand behind George's neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"We don't have a plan...do we?"

"Not right now". He admitted, biting his lip. "I'll think of something".

The door behind them opened, closed and then locked. They both sat up straight but John didn't let go of George...afraid he'd lose him too. "Well boys...since your friend has taken the bullet-"

"what?" John snapped his head around to face her, "what do you-"

"calm down". She laughed, "what I mean is...he's taken the first choice, leaving the pair of you to take this door".

"And why can't we stay with, Stuart?" George prompted.

"You'll never get any work done if you're all in the same room". She teased, "boys will be boys after all, am I right?" When none of the boys answered, she took out a key and unlocked to door to her right. "In you go boys...this is where I leave you for now".

It was dark when they entered the room but as soon as the door closed, flat and bright ceiling lights turned on. The boys blinked and shielded their eyes, only properly look around the room when the lights didn't hurt as much. The room was almost bear, save two desks with a computer on each of them. And near the boarded-up window was a man, who had his back turned to them. He stayed quiet for a few moments, as he fixed the ends of his suit. And when he turned around, the man grinned and slicked his dark hair back before approaching the young men.

"Yes". He said, sounding as though he approved of something. "You boys will do just fine...both strong, I can see that...she did good".

"And if we're not?" John chanced, keeping his eyes fixed on his.

The man laughed, "you'll just need to be, I'm afraid...now, your job". He gestured towards the two computers, "it’s fairly simple...put the headset on and read out loud what's written down in front of you".

The boys sat down at a desk each and turned on the computers. The screen flashed before them, there was no greeting to welcome them to windows ten...it just went straight to a blank, white page on windows office. Neither of them questioned it though and picked up the paper beside their headset instead.

"Mr and Mrs Anderson-"

"in the speaker, please". The man corrected George, rolling his eyes. "Honestly...do you really want a warning already? We're so early in the game!"

"Sorry". George whispered, putting the headset on and to his surprise, music was blaring into his ears. He turned to face John, who looked equally shocked. He couldn't hear anything, not even his own voice as he read out the first sentence on the paper. And he knew this was all intentional, it was obvious they weren't supposed to hear what the other was saying.

Five hours into work and they had forgotten most of what they said into the headset.

The music distracted them from remembering...that, and they had so many lines to read.

George could only remember saying a lot of names...things about devices but that's all he remembered. John, on the other hand, couldn't remember a thing and for some reason, he felt glad of that because he knew whatever he said, wasn't good. The man stayed with them but was more interested in his laptop. Whenever George looked up, he could see the man laughing or grinning at something funny on the screen...he didn't want to know what he found so amusing though.

When the clock struck twelve, he clapped his hands and the computers turned off. "Break!" He called, with a smile. "Finally...you must be hungry".

John put the headset down, "we have lunch?"

"Of course, wouldn’t want to starve you now, would we?"

"I guess not".

George got up from the seat, feeling his legs wobble a bit from lack of use. "Where do we go?"

"Down to the cafe...the woman will show you the way". He told them, nodding towards the door. 

When the boys left the room, they saw Stuart standing next to her in the corridor. John and George had never felt so relieved and happy to see someone in their life...it was such a good feeling seeing their friend again, even if it had only been five hours apart from him.

"Stu, how are-"

"less talking...more walking". The woman scolded, beginning to walk down the long corridor. "Your break is only forty minutes...make this most of it". She warned them, as they began to descend the stairs.

Stuart raised his eyebrows at his friends, "fine". He mumbled, "I'm fine".

***

They sat down at their own little table, away from the others. The woman had placed a plate of sandwiches in front of them and three bottles of water. She left after that, informing them that she would be back in forty minutes to collect them. None of the boys were hungry though...Stuart looked ready to vomit, George was zoning out and John was trying to keep it together.

"Come on, lads". He said, "let’s have a bite to eat and-"

"no way". Stuart rejected, shaking his head firmly. "They've poisoned it".

"What?" John exclaimed, laughing nervously. "You're just being paranoid son...take a bite, yeah?"

Stuart shocked and startled them all next, by curling his hand into a fist and punching the table. Sandwiches flew onto the floor, as well as the bottles of water. "No!" He yelled, dragging the attention of the other workers in the cafe.

"Hey-" John whispered calmly, keeping the tremble out of his voice. "Easy mate...calm down, yeah? No one's here to hurt you, you're safe".

Stuart ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, "right". He hushed, "sorry".

"It’s okay-"

"no". He disagreed hoarsely, "it’s not".

"Jesus, Stu". George breathed out, leaning back on his chair with a frown. "What the fuck did they do to you?"

 "I-" he choked out, "I... can’t remember".


	9. Chapter 9

 On day eight, things had changed.

Stuart had closed himself off from his friends, rarely speaking to them and suffering badly from nightmares he couldn't remember the next day. It was horrible seeing their friend suffer but they could only watch, feeling powerless to help. But it wasn't like Stuart was the only one suffering, they all were...just not as bad as him, really. Just like the other days though, they had to put their feelings aside and get on with work. Or whatever it was they did.

Most of the time, they couldn't hear a thing. The music was always too loud and the room they were in was sound proof, by the looks of it. But John was almost certain he could hear someone yelling and screaming in the corridor and he just knew it had something to do with Stuart. He wanted to get up and run after him but when he looked over at the man behind the desk, he found himself staring back into his eyes. They glared at him, threatening him to stay where he was "or else". John looked over at George, who was unaware of what was happening...he didn't get up. John couldn't leave him, not his kid brother. George would always argue that he would be perfectly fine on his own but John would never take that chance. He continued to work, trying hard to forget the yells he heard in the corridor and got up when he was told, for lunch.

***

"Where is he?" George worried, anxiously looking around the quiet cafe. "He should be here by now, right? Why didn't he show up when the woman took us down...".

John kept his eyes on his uneaten sandwich. Feeling too sick to swallow down a few bites and pretend that things were okay. "I... I don't know, George".

The kid snapped his eyes to his, "you know something-" he accused, pointing his fingers towards John's chest. "What aren't you telling me?" He whispered.

"Nothing". He said, dropping the sandwich.

"You're lying-"

"I'm not, George. You-"

"stop it!" The boy yelled, hands slamming down onto the table.

John ran a hand down his face, resting his fingers onto his chin. "Don't shout". He told him, "you'll get in trouble, mate".

"I don't care". He hissed with venom. "Tell me". George demanded, leaning towards his friend with hard and dangerous eyes.

John let out a sigh and leaned towards his friend, "I heard someone yelling...I don't know how but I did, okay?"

He felt like someone had just punched him in the chest, George leaned back against the chair, almost taking the legs off the ground. "Stuart?"

"I'm not sure". John admitted anxiously, "I hope not but-"

"he's not here". George whispered in realization.

"Right".

"What do we do?"

"Excuse me?"

George gestured around the room, "he's not here". He clarified, "so what do we do about that?"

"Your bravery always amazes me, Harrison". John smirked, crossing his arms. "Either that, or you're just really fucking stupid".

"We have to find him, John". He told his friend, voice serious. "He's not himself".

"I know". John breathed out, eyes glistening. "I'm worried, George".

George bit his bottom lip, staring into John's eyes. It wasn't like his friend to show this much emotion, especially in front of someone who was younger. "We'll get him". George assured him, with as much confidence as he could muster. 

 "How?" John urged quietly, "we can't exactly-"

 the scrapping of George's chair suddenly cut his friend off. The youngest stood up, cleared his throat and made to walk towards the exit of the cafe. 

 "Don't be stupid". John whispered, grabbing George's elbow. "We'll get into trouble". 

 "We?"

 "Well...". He let go of the youngest, shrugging. "I'm not exactly going to let you go alone now, am I?"

 "It’s too dangerous-"

 "seriously?!"

 George bit his lip, "only one of us should go".

 Pinching the bridge of his nose, John let out a tired sigh. "Look...how about if he doesn't show up at the end of the day, then we'll find him. Does that sound like a good idea?"

 Staring at his friend, in quiet concentration, George pulled his eyebrows together. He was conflicted. Waiting until the place was empty was probably the best idea but what if they were too late? What if something happens to Stuart in the meantime? "I don't-"

 "it’s the best option". John assured him, voice quiet so no one could hear. "Now sit back down...people are watching us". 

 George slowly nodded his head and sat back down, though didn't take the sandwich John offered him. 

 "Don't blame you...not hungry myself". He muttered, face suddenly twisting with worry. 

 "He'll-" the boy suddenly shuddered, feeling a chill run down his spine at the thought of never seeing one of his best friends again. 

 "George?" John frowned, "well find him, okay?"

 "Right". George quickly swiped a hand across his eyes, "it’s just...eh-" he shook his head firmly and cleared his throat, "you know what...it doesn't matter". 

 John watched his friend silently, as the youngest picked up a sandwich and forcefully choked down a few bites. "You don't have to pretend...I know". 

 "Stop-" George half pleaded, "let’s not get into this, okay? Craig's not...". The boy blinked a few times and lowered the sandwich onto his plate. "He's not coming back". 

 "No". John said softly, "but Stu will". 

 ***

 At the end of another working day, the boys were soon standing in the corridor where the woman and Stuart were waiting for them. John had never felt so much relief before, he thought he could have fainted when he saw his friend standing there. George was much the same, only he had to lean against the wall for support. 

 "Boys". She nodded, "its home time".

 Though his friends smiled, Stuart's mouth never twitched and he kept that stony and emotionless expression on his face, all the way home. John didn't worry too much, he didn't expect his friend to laugh or greet them with a smile...he expected to be greeted by the robot, Stuart had become. Though George did notice something when they entered their flat. It was the wetness in Stuart's eyes...almost as if he was about to cry. 

 "Stuart?" He called after him, following the man into the bedroom. "Are you okay? What happened? Why didn't you come for lunch-“

"n-no time". He stuttered, sounding nervous as he walked towards his bed. "Tired". 

 George nodded, eyes shining with concern. "Of course,...it’s been a long day, Stu". 

 Saying nothing, he slipped under the duvet and closed his eyes. "Goodbye, George". He whispered, just as George turned towards the door. 

 "Right...goodnight, Stu". 


	10. Chapter 10

  _"Goodbye, George"._

He couldn't sleep, his eyes were glued to the ceiling as his mind worked over time. 

   _"Goodbye, George"._

It wouldn't leave him, what Stuart said earlier on, before he drifted off into sleep. 

  _"Goodbye, George"._

Something about the way he sounded, filled him with dread.

_"Goodbye, George"._

He pulled the duvet off from his body and got up, quickly walking out of his bedroom. 

_"Goodbye, George"._

Following the walls in their dark hallway, he walked towards his friend’s room. 

  _"Goodbye, George"._  

Carefully opening the door, George stepped inside the dark room and looked towards the bed. 

 _"Goodbye, George"._  

Placing his hand on the duvet, he couldn't feel anything solid underneath. "Stuart?"

  _"Goodbye, George"._

 George pulled the duvet back, revealing nothing but a sheet underneath. "Stuart!"

 "George?" Came John's sleepy voice, "what's going on?" 

 "He's...he's gone-"

 "who?"

 George ran a hand down his face, "Stuart". He croaked, "he's gone".

John jumped down from his bed and stumbled a bit. He staggered towards George and looked at the empty bed in front of him. He was at a loss for words, as he stared with empty eyes at the creased sheets before him. Letting out a quiet breath, he then knelt down and placed his hand under his friend’s pillow, but felt nothing. 

 "What are you doing?"

 "Um-" John shook his head, "nothing...where could he be, do you think?"

 "How am I meant to know?" He asked with annoyance, "we have nothing to go by!"

 "Calm down". John uttered quietly, placing a hand on George's shoulder. "We'll find him, alright? He-"

just then, the bedroom door began to open. 

 "Stuart?" George asked hopefully but his hopes were shattered, when he felt something soft brush up against his leg. "Salem...it’s just the cat". 

"You've been looking for her". He pointed out softly, watching as George gently picked the cat up and kissed her on the head. "George-"

 "hm?"

 "We'll find him, alright?" He told his friend, with confidence. "And we won't stop looking until we do". 

 George nodded, "let’s start tonight". 

 "Now?" John back peddled, "do you think that's a good idea, mate?"

 "Of course,". George hissed, causing Salem to meow. "This is our best friend, John...this is Stu...he's a risk worth taking-"

 "of course, he his". John cut in defensively, "I was only-" he sighed, giving up on his attempts to redeem himself as a good friend. "Let's just go...pack a flash light". 

 "Wait-" George lowered Salem onto the ground, "we have those?"

 "Of course,". He stated, matter of fact. "What if we have a power cut?"

 "Couldn't have mentioned them when the lights go off at nights, no?" 

 John shrugged, "didn't want the telly seeing us...did I?"

"Guess not". George mumbled, "I'll get dressed". 

Five minutes later, they were both in the hallway packing up a bag. John had placed two torches in the bag, along with a handful of spare batteries. All the lights had gone off, everywhere in town, so they needed these the most. And it wasn’t even the dark that could cause them to get lost, the fog was still heavy too and hadn't made a nudge to clear anytime soon. 

 "Pity they took the car". George grumbled, "we'll have to walk in the dark". 

 "Not much we can do, mate". John sighed, shouldering the bag. "We should probably come back before the lights come on...we might get caught".

 "Aren't we allowed to leave the house?" George questioned, raising an eyebrow. "This isn't a prison, John".

 "I know". He agreed, "but they might get suspicious if they see us...since Stuart's gone and all".

 "True-"

 "right, we ready?" John couldn't see but had guessed that George had managed to put on his clothes and shoes in the dark. "You got everything on?"

 "Yeah". 

John unlocked the door and carefully stepped outside. The houses across the street were like tall black shapes...and the trees looked like shadowy monsters. It felt cold outside, despite it being summer but then again, they hadn't seen the sun in over a week. "Stay close". John ordered softly, "can't see anything".

 "Its fine". But George moved closer to John, despite his response. "Which way to work?" 

 "It’s that where we're going?"

 "Only place I can think where he'll be". 

Taking a torch out of his bag, John turned it on and aimed the light in front of him. The streets were quiet, there wasn't even a gust of wind or the sounds of birds in the sky. And after he let out a calming breath, he began to walk forwards. "You're right beside me, yeah?"

 "I won't leave". George promised him, "plus...you're the one with the torch". 

 "Dick". He snorted, "so selfish you are". 

 "Come off it". George nervously looked around him, his ears trying to pick up any sounds, apart from their footsteps shuffling on the ground. "How long?"

 "Not sure". John admitted, "maybe twenty minutes?"

 "That's too long". He hissed, "someone might catch us". 

 "In the dark?" John asked, "don't think so, mate...it’s too dark and everyone's bound to be asleep". 

George was silent for a few moments before a thought suddenly came to his mind, "what if Stu was right? What if these are aliens?" And what caused John to laugh was the seriousness coming from his friend. "John-"

 "sorry!" He exclaimed, muffling his laughter with his free hand. "Just...he has a really active imagination...and now you-"

 "not really". George muttered quietly, "he was always the one with the strange ideas". 

Sobering up, he nodded. "We'll find him-"

 "I hope so-"

 "cause - fucking hell...I miss him". 

 "Same". George croaked and suddenly stopped walking when he crashed into John. "What the hell?"

 "We're here". John whispered, shinning the torch onto the large building. 

George looked up, he never noticed how large the old school was until now. He gulped loudly, suddenly feeling anxious about entering. "Already?"

 "Yup".

The pair stayed quiet and ended up staring at their place of work both wondering if Stuart was inside and scared as to what would happen. "Well-" George sighed, placing his hands onto the gate in front of him, preparing to climb. "Let's head". 

John followed suit, though his hands trembled a little. He held the torch into his mouth and gripped onto their only source of light with his teeth, "find Stuart and out again, right?"

 "John...we'll have to run after this". George told him, "if he's in there, we're obviously not meant to find him". 

 "So where?" 

George placed his foot onto one of the thick bars on the gate, "we'll head to Paul".    


	11. Chapter 11

 He cowered in the corner of the room. 

His arms were bleeding, covered in cuts but not by someone else. 

Tears were running freely down his face as his body trembled and shook violently.

Scattered around him on the ground was hair, that he had pulled off from his head. 

And mixed in with fair hair was blood...puddles of dark red. 

He let out a weak gasped and fell onto the ground. 

He was too weak to sit now. 

Laying down was his only option. 

Stuart closed his eyes, trying hard to remember...but everything came up blank. It was like his own life and been erased and all he could remember was shapes but they weren't pleasant. Stuart never wanted to go near them but each day, the shapes grew closer. 

He was losing his mind. 

***

Standing outside the door, John was hesitant to open it. George was the opposite, he was eager to see his friend and didn't care what was on the other side...he could deal with it. 

 "Come on...". 

 "In a minute". John whispered, the light shaking in his hands, as his fingers touched the door handle lightly. 

 "You're wasting-"

 "shut up...for fucks sake". He hissed, irritated but more so in himself. It was just a door, after all. Nothing bad could come of them by opening a door...

 "I'll do it". George insisted, reaching for the door. 

 "No, wait-"

 but he had already opened it. The wood creaked as a dark room appeared. It was quiet, not a sound could be heard. With a frown, John lifted the torch up and shone the light into the room. He was surprised to find nothing there, save a wooden chair and desk in the corner. 

 "This is where he works?" George asked, stepping into the room. 

 "Yes". John confirmed, confused. "I don't...I don't get it-"

 "shit!"

 "Don't panic".

"What else can we do?!" George exclaimed, marching towards the desk and kicking it over. The wood crashed onto the hard ground, causing a loud thud. 

 "George!" John gripped the boys shoulder, "calm down...we'll get caught-"

 "I don't care!" He yelled, face turning red with anger. "Who cares anymore?" 

 "George-"

 "I'm not-" his voice cracked, as tears began to roll down his cheeks. "I'm not losing him, John...not Stu...not after, Craig". 

Feeling his heart burst, John wrapped his arms around George and pulled him towards his chest. He let one hand fall onto the boys head, and when he dropped the torch, he used the other hand to rub his back. "You're okay...it’s okay". He soothed his grieving friend, trying to keep the nerves out his voice in an attempt to comfort him. 

The weight he had upon his shoulders had finally left him...George let out a choked sob and crumbled to the ground, pulling John with him. He buried his head into the man's chest, feeling ashamed for crying like this but was powerless to stop. "S-"

 "nothing to be sorry for, mate...nothing at all". 

 "It’s sudden-" he choked out through a sob, "it’s a shock". 

John pressed a light kiss on the top of George's hair, "it is...but it’s alright". 

 "John-"

 "we'll just stay here until you're ready...it’s okay". 

And George cried for ten solid minutes, stopping when he felt he could control himself better. He sniffed, wiped his face and moved away from John. 

 "Alright?" The older man asked, ruffling his younger friend’s hair affectionately.

 "Yeah-" he replied hoarsely, "eh...thanks - thanks for that". George mumbled, suddenly feeling very small and embarrassed. "Won't happen again".

 "I don't mind". John assured him lightly, helping his friend up onto his feet.

 "Do you think they heard us?" He asked, quickly changing the subject. 

 "They would have come by now, mate". John picked up his torch from the floor, "but we should probably look elsewhere for Stu". 

 "In this building?"

 "Yeah". John nodded, heading towards the door. "Not sure where though". 

 "Cafe?" George suggested, following his friend into the dark corridor. 

 "Worth a shot". 

 ***

After checking the cafe, the basement and a few other rooms, they had no luck in finding Stuart. Both felt very disheartened, feeling hopeful before that they would quickly find him and make a run for it to Paul's but it wasn't looking like that anymore. 

 "What now?" Asked George, closing another door to an empty room. 

 "I don't know, mate". John sighed, leaning against the wall. "Didn't think we'd be here that long, to be honest". He admitted quietly, "thought we would have found him quickly". 

 "How long have we been here for?" George suddenly asked, it was hard to know what time it was when the sun never came up. 

 "Shit-" John hissed, grabbing George's shoulder and taking off into a fast walk. "No idea but it’s close to six...probably". 

 "Fuck". George whispered fearfully, "what if we get caught?" 

 "Then we came in early-"

 "they'll know". 

John didn't say anything but instead, concentrated on getting them both out of here without bumping into anyone. They raced down the stairs, being careful not to trip. As they ran though, John dropped the torch but ignored it for now. However, when they reached the corridor, John suddenly felt something else was missing...George. 

 "George?" He whispered loudly, turning around to see nothing but darkness. "George? Where the fuck...George?" He felt himself grow into panic mode. John began to pant, he gripped the ends on his hair and ran back towards the stairs, almost tripping over the first step but collected himself back up again. "George?"

 "We're here". 

There was a clapping sound and then suddenly, the lights came on. John blinked, shielding his eyes for a few seconds before quickly opening them again. He could see George at the top of the stairs but he wasn’t alone...the man was holding onto his shoulders, smirking. 

 "Decided to pop in for an early start, boys?" 

John looked ready to charge at him, wanting so badly to get his friend back. "Yes". He said, through gritted teeth. 

The man laughed and pushed George away from him, "don't lie". He sang, as George stumbled down the stairs and into John's waiting arms. "Such a bad lair...". 

 "What do you know?" John almost demanded, though managed to keep some politeness in his voice.

 "Haven't you heard? I know everything".


	12. Chapter 12

  "Well...I'm glad you came in early". 

 "Why?"

 "So much to do...much to explain". 

John kept one hand on George's shoulder, as they stood in the room they worked in. The man had clapped his hands, allowing the computers and lights to turn on. "What do you have to explain?" 

 "Don't you want to know what you've been working on?" He asked, grinning as he picked up the sheet of paper beside the headset. "Don't you want to know...what you've done?"

 "What have we done?" George whispered, voice trembling. 

 "What you've done...what you've become". The man went on, placing the paper down on the table in front of the boys. He clapped again, though nothing happened. 

 "What?" George whispered, flinching at the clap. 

 "Take a look and see". He urged, nodding towards the paper. 

John sighed and took the paper, holding it up towards his eyes and reading through each line. His eyes grew bigger and bigger the more he read, George was scared to look but he had to know. 

 "John-"

 "I don't know-"

 "let’s see". And with that, George snapped the paper from John and began to read the words. He felt sick...a hand covered his mouth when he read the words "you have five minutes...or your parents will die". 

 "You see-" the man spoke, "you've been controlling others...across the UK. You have become murderers". 

George looked up, tears filling his eyes. "N-no! You made us-"

 "I didn't make you do anything". He argued darkly, "you did this...all by yourself". 

 "But you threatened us!" He spat, paper crumbling into a ball. 

The man laughed, "I did no such thing...boy". 

The paper fell from his grasp, "you did". He whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "You did! You threatened us-"

 "please...spare me your excuses". He clapped again and grinned when he saw how distressed the boy had become. 

 "Stop clapping!"

 "George". John whispered, placing his hands on George's shoulders, "calm down...he isn't-"

 "how can you...where's Stuart?" 

 "Hm?" The man hummed, "who?" 

 "Our friend". George went on fiercely, "where is he?" 

 "I'm not the one you need to be asking". 

 "Bullshit!" George yanked himself free from John and charged towards the man. He pushed him and watched as he smacked his head against the desk, falling unconscious onto the floor. The boy panted heavily, towering over the man and about to kick him when John suddenly pulled him back. 

 "Enough". He hushed, "he's out cold...that's enough now-"

 "John!" George choked, "he-"

 "I know". John soothed, "but what use will it be hurting him more?" 

He felt his breathing calm down, his tense shoulders soon slumped and he exhaled slowly. "You're right". He whispered, "we need to find Stu". 

 "Atta, boy". John praised, "let’s go".

***

It was getting colder now. 

His skin was like ice...the loss of blood was slowly killing him, he knew that.

Stuart didn't have any regrets because he couldn't remember anything, so dying seemed peaceful and right. The only thing he would miss was his friends...who had tried to help him and talk to him. They didn't give up and he wished more than anything that he could thank them for their efforts. But Stuart was stuck here, trapped inside this cold body and empty head. He was too weak to stand, fight and find an escape. 

And even if he did get out, he was scared. 

What would he be without his memories?

A man in a vegetated state. 

***

George followed John, marching behind him down each long corridor. The lights were on now, they seemed brighter than before. They almost burned his eyes, George wasn't used to such bright lights, not since the sun faded and the town was replaced by thick fog. 

 "I don't know where this woman will be...". John muttered, gnawing on his bottom lip. 

 "Its fine, we'll find her". 

Suddenly, a vibration sound came from George's pocket. He frowned and reached into his jumper, pulling out his mobile. He glanced at the screen, Paul was calling him. 

 "You 'gonna answer that?" 

Biting his lip, George ended the call and put his phone back into his jumper. "We need to find Stuart first". 

 "You sure?" John asked, "could be important". 

 "Nah-" George waved him off, "come on...lets go". And he walked on, ignoring the fact that he couldn't even remember lifting his phone from the house before they left. He looked back up towards the light, hissing in pain. "When did it get so bright?" 

 "Didn't notice it". John shrugged, "your eyes sore?" 

 "A little". 

 "Should have brought your shades". John smirked. 

 "Shut-" his phone vibrated again, George brought it out of his pocket. "Voicemail". He mumbled, unlocking the screen and placing the phone up to his ear. 

 "George...you have to.... get out...come back...us...please". 

 "What did he say?"

George frowned, "I...it was all crackly, bad reception".

 "That's a shame". John frowned, "did he sound okay?"

 "Not really". He sighed, "sounded frantic". 

 "Oh? Hope he's okay". 

They walked into the cafe. The room was empty and there was no sign of any workers here, not even the people who ran this place. George was confused...this place opened at six and yet, they had only bumped into the man. He walked towards one of the tables and suddenly gasped when he heard a loud beeping noise. Covering his ears with his hands, he turned towards John, who was just standing there, not fazed by it. 

 "John?" He yelled above the noise but his friend didn't hear him. George let out a scream, suddenly feeling so much pain in his head, ears and legs. He crumbled to the floor, breathing heavily and suddenly felt sick. From above, the ceiling began to shake and the lights got brighter...so bright, that one of the bulbs exploded. "John!" George screamed when the whole room resembled the sun. 

  _"Come back..."._

 "John!" He screamed again, tears of pain and fear running down his face. "John! Help me, please! Help-"

  _"It’s okay...you're fine"._

George gasped and retched, vomiting on the floor. 

_"Come back...come back to us, it’s okay"._

The boy shut his eyes and opened them again, only to be faced with a bright light. 

 _"Keep your eyes..._ open". 


	13. Chapter 13

 It was like he was choking. 

With burning eyes, he retched and convulsed but his back hit something soft, instead of the floor.

 "It’s okay-" came a woman's assuring voice, "we'll take this out now". 

He snapped his eyes open, well tried to but they appeared to be taped together. George began to panic and a loud beeping noise from beside him made him panic further. 

 "Calm down, George...I'm helping you". 

He coughed when something was gently pulled out of his throat and mouth. He retched again but managed to control himself and stilled, when he felt a pair on fingers by his eyes. Letting out a groan, George tried to move his head away but found he couldn't, something was retraining his neck. 

 "You can open your eyes now". 

He could see a blurry face in front of him and a bright light. George blinked a few times, willing his vision to clear and when it did, he saw a woman wearing a blue uniform in front of him. Confused, the boy tried to sit up but soon remembered about his neck. "...neck". He croaked, mouth feeling too dry. 

 "It’s a neck brace, George". She told him quietly, "we weren't sure if you suffered any spinal damage". 

 "Damage?" He whispered, eyebrows pulling together to form a frown. 

 "It’s normal not to remember-"

 "Stuart?" He suddenly gasped, remembering he was trying to find him. "John?" 

 "Your friends are outside...they haven't left your side". She smiled warmly at him and placed her fingers onto his wrist, "pulse is still fast...that's normal. You'll be thirsty, I'd imagine". 

George rolled his eyes to the side, noticing the chocolates and cards on the table by his bed. His mind was foggy and thick with mixed memories. "Stuart?" He asked again, never taking his eyes off a "get well", card. It was decorated in white, with a monkey laying down in a hospital bed with a thermometer sticking out of its mouth. "I'm in... hospital?" He croaked, looking towards the woman, who must have been a nurse. 

 "Well done". She smiled, picking up a chart from the end of George's bed. "And welcome back...your friends have missed you". 

 "How long?" 

 "A week". She told him, "can you believe it? You've slept for a week". 

 "I can't...believe it". George stared up at the ceiling, trying hard to remember...one thing that stuck to his mind was a telly. 

 "...most people in comas can hear what others are saying, or have some wacky dreams from the morphine we give you". She went on, "what did you dream about, George?" 

 "Uh-" he breathed deeply a few times, "can't remember". 

 "Shame that". She said, walking towards the door. "I'll get your friends". 

George waited in silence. The only sound he could hear was a beeping noise. He looked to his side, finding the source was coming from a heart machine. And when the door shut, he flinched. It sounded just like someone clapping...he felt a shiver roll down his spine. Maybe he was getting a fever. 

 "Hey...". 

Looking towards the door, he saw two familiar people. Tears filled his eyes, his bottom lip trembled when he was overcome with a feeling of relief. "John...Paul-"

 "it’s about time you woke up". Paul choked, rushing to his friend’s side. "We missed you, Georgie". 

 "Yeah-" he breathed out, welcoming the comfort. "Me too". 

***

"Can you tell me now?" George asked, "I'm calm and I've had something to drink...please tell me what happened". 

 "George-" John leaned forwards, "what's the last thing you remember?" 

 "Something about a telly". He mumbled, "but that's useless". 

 "It’s not". Paul assured him lightly, "its bloody brilliant, son". 

 "You don't need to sugar-coat this, Paulie". George said, "my memory sucks". 

 "He's not". John pointed out softly, "we got a new telly...but I didn't want to install it because-"

 "it was a gift?" George asked, remembering something from a conversation. 

 "No, mate". John told him, "I wanted to wait until you got back-"

 "from college". The boy whispered, eyes clouding over with a very faint flashback. "I was going to miss my train...so I left in a hurry". 

 "That's right". Paul nodded, "that's right...do you remember what happened after?" 

 "Um-" George closed his eyes, racking his brain for another hint. And then he remembered his phone ringing, "Stuart called". 

 "Yes". John smiled, encouraging the boy. "So, what happened after that?"

 "He warned me...bout the train falling". 

Paul and John both exchanged a look of confusion, "no". Paul told him slowly, "try again, Georgie". 

 "I can't-

_"you forgot your bloody bag, George! I'm driving up now...I'll meet you on the train. Need to get on that one anyway...don't move"._

George's breathing picked up a little, the beeping grew more intense. "Yes...I remember". He croaked, "I forgot my bag...Stuart joined me on the train".

 "That's right...do you remember what happened next?"

 

_"...you're always late-"_

_"not really"._

_"And you've forgotten your bag, George"._

_"Stuart's bringing it". George told his friend smugly, "smart arse"._

_"Shut up, you-"_

_"perhaps you should give your seat up". A man told them, glaring at the two boys, who had managed to find a seat on the busy train. "It’s very rude, isn't it, dear?"_

_"Yes". The woman beside him agreed, "my darling has a bad leg and you're both sitting down, how rude"._

_"We didn't know-" George quickly apologized, "come on, Craig"._

_The boys headed towards the door, when it suddenly opened and a flushed young man entered the train, holding onto a bag. "George!" He breathed out, "got your bag...you numpty"._

_"Thanks, Stu". George grinned, "sorry for...you know"._

_"Its fine". He waved it off, leaning heavily against the wall. "Couldn't let you go to college without it now, could I?"_

George opened his eyes, "Stuart...". He whispered, "where is he?"

John looked at him with eyes full of different emotions, "I'll get the nurse".

***

George sat in front of the bed, where his friend lay, motionless and barely breathing. He stared at his hands, which wouldn't twitch and then towards his lips, which didn't smile. John had told him Stuart had saved his life and tried to save Craig's but couldn't. George didn't feel guilty that Stuart had saved him because he would have done the same...for any of his friends. 

 "Wake up". He quietly pleaded, gripping onto his friend’s hand. "You've been asleep for a week; can you believe it?" George felt tears burn his eyes, "I just woke up...I'm fine, by the way". He cleared his throat, "it’s okay that you couldn't save Craig...but I can't lose you too". 

 "Hm-"

 "Stuart?" George gasped, almost falling off his chair. "Hey...wake up! Open your eyes-" he reached over and peeled the tape off from his eyelids, "see...its fine, wake up". 

 "Aliens". He whispered, voice sounding hoarse and croaky. 

George let out a breath of laughter, feeling tears roll down his face. "You have such an active imagination, Stuart". 

**Author's Note:**

> This obviously didn't happen. This fic is based in our time.  
> Enjoy! :D


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